


Respite

by MartinsCardigan, Prince_Peanut, sweetsyringe



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Grumpy Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Location: Alice "Daisy" Tonner's Scottish Safehouse, M/M, Minor Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), jonmartin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartinsCardigan/pseuds/MartinsCardigan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Peanut/pseuds/Prince_Peanut, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetsyringe/pseuds/sweetsyringe
Summary: Jon is grumpy as ever, but even the most misanthropic of people need physical affection every now and again. Martin, dutiful boyfriend that he is, is more than happy to oblige.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on my phone, at work. Is this the most responsible use of my free time at my job? Absolutely not.
> 
> Also, big shout out to NevadaBabe and MartinsCardigan, and my other beta readers! You’re greatly appreciated!

After one has been through hell and then some, safety and peace can be suffocating; tedious even. Though, the mundane was exactly what Jon and Martin needed. Exhaustion had set in nearly as soon as they’d crossed the threshold of the cottage, and the days that followed were a welcome respite. Life, for the first time in proverbial centuries, was pleasant.

The two of them fell into a routine fairly quickly. Jon, for all his early mornings in the Archives, was under no circumstances a morning person, and often slept past 9 am. Martin, on the other hand, enjoyed the warm light of the sunrise, and the stillness of the early hours. He’d make tea, and Jon would come teetering in at the sound of the kettle, bleary-eyed and froggy-voiced. Their touches were light, fleeting. Jon seemed hesitant in his advances, barely letting their knuckles brush when exchanging mugs. He’d let Martin touch him, of course; and though he was loathe to admit it, rather liked being manhandled and held. When Martin’s hands found their way to his hips while Jon was cooking, he’d lean into the touch. Though, never initiating it himself, save for rare occasions that were gone as quickly as they came. He admitted his love readily enough, and the terms “partners” and “boyfriends” came easily, but it seemed that Jon was too prickly for extended physical affection. At least, mostly.

Martin was lounging on the sofa, some documentary playing on the television. He wasn’t one for documentaries, but they made for good background noise should he decide to nap. They also seemed to attract a certain Archivist, who eagerly peered into the parlor at the sound of David Attenborough’s familiar voice. Not yet on the cusp of sleep, Martin shifted himself a bit to make room for Jon. The latter sat tentatively at the opposite end of the sofa.

“What’s this one about?”

“‘Dunno. I zoned out.” 

Martin quickly found use for Jon as a foot rest, much to Jon’s dismay. He grumbled unintelligibly. No move, however, was made to dislodge Martin’s feet. They just sat there, Jon rigid and tense and Martin close to dozing off. He let his eyes drift closed. It didn’t last long, though. Gooseflesh prickled on his arm, the distinct feeling of being watched worming it’s way into the back of his mind. He cracked an eye open. Jon quickly looked away.

“Can I help you?”

“You look...-“ Jon trailed off.

Amusement played at the edge of Martin’s voice. He could see pink crawling it’s way up Jon’s neck and across his face, “I look...?”

“Cozy.” Came the curt response.

“Cozy?”

“Comfortable. Peaceful! I- I don’t know.” His hackles rose as Jon tried to explain himself. Avatar of the Eye or not, he was having a dreadfully difficult time keeping eye contact at that moment.

The cushions of the sofa sunk and creaked as Martin propped himself up on his elbows. He shifted, pressing his back against the arm of the sofa, and fixed his eyes on Jon. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a smirk.

“Jon,” he hazarded, “Are you trying to tell me you’d like to join me?”

The response was a gruff exhale of breath. Martin bit the inside of his cheek, stifling a chuckle.

“Aw, does the Archivist want snuggles?” Teasing was unnecessary, but terribly fun. If Jon had been pink before, he was positively crimson now.

Bristling, Jon replied, “You don’t need to patronize me.”

“ _You’re_ dodging the question.” This comment was met with embarrassed silence, and Martin heaved a fond sigh. Reclining, he patted his thigh, “Come on, you don’t need to be coy. Come be cozy with me.”

From there it was a waiting game. Martin was well practiced at this, practically a professional in the field. He simply sat, attention back on the television screen, letting Jon process his emotions on his own. After a minute, he felt Jon stir, and the cushions dipped. Clambering hesitantly over Martin’s legs, Jon situated himself between them. As the weight of Jon’s head pressed timidly against Martin’s chest, he draped an arm over Jon’s shoulders. Though it took a few moments, he could feel Jon relax against him.

“Comfy?” 

“Mmh.” That was, presumably, an affirmative reply.

“Good,” Martin took the remote in his free hand, the other tangling itself in Jon’s mane of hair, stroking absently. The program volume was switched up a few notches, though neither party seemed to actually pay much attention to it. David Attenborough narrated to a vacant audience as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. They’d not wake for another couple hours, long past dinner time, yet very contented for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that this was an enjoyable read! It was predominantly self indulgent.


End file.
